


dirty data

by Liu



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Assumptions, Attempt at Humor, F/M, M/M, Matchmaker Lisa, Mistaken Identity, Snart Siblings, are both a disaster, kind of, or 'the one where Ray gets mistaken for a prostitute'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liu/pseuds/Liu
Summary: Lisa plays matchmaker (and a practical joke). Len is not amused at first.





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [rayshant_bestopt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayshant_bestopt/gifts).



> Written as a birthday gift for rayshant_bestopt, so happy birthday again and I hope you'll have some fun with this mess :D

Len grits his teeth and counts to ten. Eleven. Twelve. He loses track afterwards, because Lisa’s huge shit-eating grin is still firmly in place, and Len loves his sister, he really does, but he also wonders if it makes him a horrible person that he’s regretting his decision from two months ago to let her move in.

Well. It’s not regret as much as silent mourning of his previous peaceful life. Get out, steal something, run from the police, get back, lie down on the sofa that has not been turned into a wardrobe, open a beer that has not been switched for Lisa’s favorite (lemon-flavored) brand. Len’s a man of simple tastes, at least that is what he thought about himself until his sister showed up on his doorstep with a suitcase. Or five. Turns out, in his old age he’s become quite particular about certain things, such as picking long curly hair out of _everything_ or tripping over five pairs of shoes on his way to the bathroom.

“You could just get a bigger place, you know,” Lisa said, that one time Len actually tried to voice his concerns. Granted, he was voicing them rather loudly and sarcastically, but she could’ve at least pretended to be contrite about the mess, Len believes.

And last week, to add to the general suffering, she took it upon himself to play matchmaker for her poor, lonely brother. Her words, not Len’s – he does not particularly want to add dating to his already busy schedule.

(He does not say it out loud anymore because he’s in no mood to listen to Lisa’s lecture about how watching Shark Week does not count as ‘being busy’.)

Lisa knows him all too well, though. That’s the problem. If it were anyone else, Len would be able to make an excuse, or better yet, a real plan of action. He would agree to the horrors of a double-date and then call in sick, or make himself busy on the opposite side of the town, if not country.

But no. Lisa, the little piece of shit, knows not to give him any opportunity to slip out of her grasp. Last night, she performed the role of a sister who just wanted to spend some quality time with her big brother perfectly, and Len ate it up, even though he should have known better. Which leaves him here, standing in his own doorway and listening to Lisa’s bullshit along the lines of ‘the more, the merrier’. Len can see Cisco peeking out from behind her shoulder; the kid still seems mortified whenever he’s in the same room as Len.

Good.

Len spends blissful five seconds imagining slamming the door in their faces. But he knows his sister, and this action, however empowering for the moment, would come with some nasty repercussions. Len doesn’t think his heart could handle it if she threw fifty bucks of Swiss cheese in the trash (again). There’s really no other option but to step out of the way and let her and her dorky boyfriend in.

“I thought it would be much more relaxing if we met at our place, don’t you agree, Cisquito?” she sings, and the boy flushes to the roots of his long hair, smiling at her like a kid would smile about a life-long free access to Disney World. Poor kid doesn’t know what he’s getting into, and normally, Len would be amused by Lisa’s ability to completely take over a man’s mind like that.

Right now, though, he’s being roped into entertaining the nerd boy’s nerd friend, and he’s already sore about the prospect of an awkward evening spent quietly dodging someone’s advances.

“So where’s _my_ date?” he asks with a smirk that makes his opinion of the whole thing pretty clear. Len doesn’t want to hurt the actual date’s feelings, but his inhibitions are remarkably lower in that regard when it comes to his sister and her mini-Chewbacca of a boyfriend. Who has shown up in a shirt claiming that his starship brings all the nerds to the yard. Len exerts enormous amounts of self-control not to glance at Cisco’s crotch – the guy must be hung like a horse if Lisa’s willing to show her face (and her Louboutins) in public with someone wearing _that_.

Lisa smirks right back and flicks her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Lenny, he’ll be here. Play nice, will you? He was really excited when I showed him your photo.”

Len can practically feel his teeth eroding as she drapes an arm around her boyfriend’s shoulders and leads him further into the apartment, into the tiny kitchen-slash-dining-room (that used to be a reasonably-sized kitchen before Lisa insisted on dragging a table and some chairs in there). Len would bet a kidney that Lisa whipped out the one shirtless photo of him she’s managed to snap; she’s been hoarding that picture like a dragon sitting on a pile of gold. Good to know she’s also been using it for evil.

Just as Len contemplates how hard it might be to fake a stroke, the doorbell rings and he sighs. Too late, then… he’s not going to traumatize the Cisco-clone no doubt waiting behind that door. Len would like to think he’s not that shallow, but honestly, if he wanted to date short, nerdy, condescending and orally fixated, he’d have hit on Hartley long ago. With a quick prayer to whoever might be listening that his ‘date’ won’t be a fan of ‘funny’ shirts, Len pulls the door open-

-and promptly forgets the sarcastic one-liner that was on the tip of his tongue.

Holy _shit_. Len’s pretty confident about his own body, but something about this guy just screams that he should be on the cover of GQ for the next twenty years. There’s no funny shirt, but Len almost wishes he had a stupid quote to focus on instead of the way that simple sweater stretches over those arms and chest – it would definitely be easier to breathe.

“Hi,” says the god, showing off two rows of perfect pearly-whites and raising his hand in a friendly wave, which should make him look dorky, but somehow, Len just finds it hot.

It’s a new feeling. Len is used to judging people carefully and quietly from afar until he’s sure he knows what makes them tick – he’s very much _not_ used to feeling rattled just because someone is standing within his reach.

The guy’s friendly smile morphs into concern and he glances at the door: “Are you Lenny? Lisa told me how to get here, but the buildings aren’t properly marked so I might’ve taken a wrong turn or two.”

He looks embarrassed, and that just makes him all the more endearing. Usually, Len goes for the strong, competent types, but shyness really works for this guy.

Len steps out of the way when he realizes he’s been staring silently for a ridiculously long time.

“Leonard,” he corrects – he’ll allow a hot guy to call him by that childish nickname when hell freezes over – and tries to ignore his heart flipping somersaults when the hot guy gives him another blinding smile.

“I’m Ray. Hi.”

And with that, the torture begins. Lisa grins like a Cheshire cat throughout the dinner and Len has a sneaking suspicion that there’s something more to it than just the fact that she dragged a stranger into his apartment to be his date. But it’s difficult to think about her potential scheming when Ray keeps praising the food and smiling at Len, going out of his way to be extremely friendly.

In any other situation, that overt friendliness would set Len’s teeth on edge. Right now, though, teeth are not the parts of his body in charge of deciding whether Len as a whole likes or dislikes this guy. And so he nods and keeps his responses monosyllabic for the most part, occasionally shooting a glare Lisa’s way. After dinner, they move to the living room, where Cisco sings praises of some movie including robots and aliens and immediately produces a Blu-ray to support his argument.

The cozy room, however, has not been furnished with the idea of four people being present at once; Lisa ends up pushing Cisco into Len’s favorite armchair and draping herself over his lap. Cisco looks a little stunned, even though Len is fairly sure that they’ve moved past all the bases long ago – maybe the poor guy’s just not used to the whirlwind of PDA that is Lisa Snart.

Len can sympathize. Or rather, he could, if he weren’t too busy jumping out of his skin when Lisa’s arrangement leaves him sitting way too close to Ray, on the oversized armchair that could be called a loveseat only with the most generous stretch of imagination. Their knees brush, and Ray just smiles.

And then, he opens his perfect mouth.

“So, do you want to get down to business now?”

Len chokes on air and does his best not to gape outright. It’s not that he doesn’t want Ray, his libido has established a fairly decent control of his thoughts in the course of the past hour, making it difficult for Len to deny his visceral attraction to this man. But one-night stands with strangers are just not the way Len operates; it takes him forever to trust someone, be it in business or in his personal life, which is really the reason he’s kept himself out of the dating game for so long. In addition, Lisa’s right _there_ – they’ve been watching Cisco’s robot-alien movie, but Len can practically feel her eyes on him instead.

However, the thing with not trusting people is that he also doesn’t trust Ray enough to _tell_ him what the problem is. Len puts on his best confident smirk and raises an eyebrow:

“You in a rush?”

Ray surprises him again when he doesn’t shrink back or make a direct move to change Len’s mind. He just shrugs and leans back against the decorative pillows Lisa has dragged in.

“Not really. I mean, I kind of expected it? Lisa mentioned that you might not be comfortable enough the first time around. I get it – penetration testing is pretty intimate.”

He laughs, but Len can practically feel something in his brain pop at that declaration. Lisa is guffawing under her breath, head turned away but Len would know that sound anywhere. He’s going to murder her once this is over – right after he finds out why she thought that finding him an incredibly hot but also incredibly crude guy would be the way to go.

“Yes, it is,” Len croaks, and Ray gives him another of his puppy smiles. How can the guy talk about sex so openly and manage to look so innocent is beyond Len.

Also, what else did Lisa say about his sex life?!

They’re shushed loudly by Cisco who proclaims that ‘this is the best part’, and Len quietly stews as some giant robot whacks another giant robot (or is it an alien?) on-screen. He can’t let it go, though, so he leans towards Ray and opens his mouth to quietly continue their conversation. It takes him a few seconds to actually speak, though, because Ray, damn his attractive supermodel ways, smells really, _really_ good, fresh and clean and like Len might enjoy getting him sweaty very much.

“So how do you know my sister?” Len asks quietly, glancing Cisco’s way: but the guy seems too engrossed in the movie to pay any attention, and for once, Lisa’s focusing on her boyfriend instead of her poor, suffering brother.

“I don’t, really,” Ray replies, mirroring Len and leaning closer. They’re just inches apart now, Ray’s breath ghosting over Len’s neck, which just makes Len glad to be wearing a long-sleeved shirt: his goosebumps might not be that visible. “I’m a friend of Cisco’s, and I was in town for another job, so she asked if I could come tonight.”

“Don’t believe anything she told you,” Len jokes, and doesn’t quite expect Ray to shoot him that concerned look, or to lean closer and put his hand on Len’s knee.

“Don’t worry. She just said you need someone who knows what they’re doing. I might not look it, but I’m one of the best in the field,” he smiles again.

Len freezes. The guy’s looks and the remarks about another job weave together to create a really disturbing thought. Did Lisa hire him a prostitute?! A high-class one, by the look of it, but he didn’t think he warranted that kind of a desperate move just yet.

But then, he’s actually contemplating going through with it, which speaks volumes about how attracted he is to this guy. It’s insane, and risky, in Len’s line of business, which makes him turn to Raymond with a concerned look in his eyes.

“Has she told you what I do?”

“She might’ve mentioned a thing or two,” Raymond shifts in his seat, but the 1000-Watt smile is back in the next second and he leans way too close into Len’s personal space again, half-whispering in a confidential tone: “But don’t worry. I know how to be discreet. I wouldn’t do what I do if I couldn’t keep a secret.”

That leaves Len staring at the TV for a few minutes as he mulls it over. On the one hand, there’s the utter humiliation of resorting to a prostitute his sister bought for him. Lisa will never let him live it down; he’ll be forced to endure her matchmaking attempts until the day he dies. It would be the same as signing an official admission of loneliness and handing her all the copies.

On the other hand… his mouth has been dry with how much he wants Ray ever since he first saw the guy. There’s really no other argument in favor of this madness, but for Len, having such a strong physical reaction to someone is… unusual, to say the least. Normally, he doesn’t mind going months without sex – maybe that’s why he’s having such a hard time resisting temptation when it actually presents itself.

Ray’s hand, still resting on Len’s knee, feels like it’s burning a hole through his jeans, his skin, until he can’t think straight.

“Let’s go,” he pushes off the sofa and stalks towards the door to his bedroom. He’s ignoring Lisa’s barely audible whoops – he’ll deal with all the ‘I told you so’s later, when he’s once more in possession of all his faculties. He can more sense than hear Ray’s footsteps as the guy follows him, and when Len closes the door behind them, it feels strangely ominous, like he’s crossing over some border he has only skirted before.

He doesn’t give himself time to think it through, because as soon as his rationality returns, he’s going to twist himself into knots and run. Instead, he curls his fingers into the collar of Ray’s soft cashmere sweater and pushes the man against the nearest wall, closing the distance and bringing their lips together in a searing kiss.

It’s one of the best Len’s ever had, hot and lingering, making his toes curl and his heart beat faster. Need boils in his stomach as he slides one hand up Ray’s chest, to the thick hair at the nape of his neck, and Ray’s quiet whimper slashes through him like a lightning bolt. He forgets all about his sister in the apartment, all about his suspicious nature, because Ray is the only thing on his mind right now, in his arms and on his tongue.

Ray, who is returning Len’s kisses with equal fervor, whose fingers are digging into Len’s hips like he never wants to let go. And then they break apart for much-needed air and Ray’s chuckle breaks the quiet of Len’s bedroom.

“Wow. That’s… not what I was expecting, but I’m definitely on board.”

“Money’s not an issue,” Len says quickly and leans in for another kiss – but Ray turns away at that moment and it’s odd how Len can’t see him, but he’s still sure that Ray’s frowning.

“Wait, what?”

Len wants to groan – he doesn’t particularly want to hash out a business deal right now, but his own frustration, threatening to burst that bubble of spontaneity, has to make way for the sensible thing to do. And that is to negotiate the specifics; regardless of how much Len doesn’t want to be reminded that for Ray, this is just a job.

“Look, whatever your arrangement with Lisa was, about this evening, rest assured that I have enough in my piggy bank to afford it. I have no idea what your rates are, but-“

That’s as far as Len gets before he’s shoved back, and he stumbles in the dark for a moment as his foot gets caught on the rug.

“You think I’m a… a gigolo?!” Ray’s voice rises an octave and Len tenses up, trying to hastily play through their conversation that night. Nothing in it suggests that he could be wrong… but when he thinks about it, nothing was said that would inevitably prove his (obviously flawed) hypothesis. Nothing except…

“What was that about penetration then?” Len snorts and immediately hears a groan in response.

“I can’t believe it. Goodnight, Len. It was nice meeting you. Up until five minutes ago,” Ray mumbles that last part under his breath and before Len can react, he’s stalking out of the room. He doesn’t slam the front door on his way out, but that probably speaks more about his gentle character than it does about Len’s chances of ironing out this mess.

Ah well. Len weighs the pros and cons of never leaving his bedroom again, but that would be a touch too dramatic even for him. Plus, Lisa definitely wouldn’t bring him any ice-cream, and he could use a huge bucket right about now. Maybe dump half of it down his pants to remind himself that he should be thinking with his actual brain.

When he emerges from his lair, Lisa gives him a sympathetic look… which lasts about half a second before she starts sniggering.

“Tell me you didn’t actually shove a fiver into Ray’s underwear, please.”

Len glares and throws himself into the sofa-slash-oversized-armchair. He can still feel the ghost of Ray’s knee brushing against his, and he crosses his legs angrily to get rid of that memory.

Lisa, the evil incarnate, turns to her boyfriend with an outstretched hand and an eager expression. Cisco, reluctantly, pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and sighs. It must be a sign of how miserable Len looks that the nerd dares to scowl at him.

“Thanks, man.”

Len raises an eyebrow as Cisco deposits a fifty into Lisa’s palm. “Did you two bet that my date with Ray would end badly?”

And if so, did his own flesh and blood bet _against_ him?!

“Oh, no,” Lisa smiles at him innocently, “I specifically bet Cisco that you’d mistake Ray for a sex worker. Have you _seen_ the guy? Anyone would think he’s a hooker with those shoulders and that face. And that ass.”

Cisco grumbles unhappily at that, and Lisa kisses his cheek before smirking at Len again. “I told him to take a look at your computer, I didn’t think you’d actually go along with the hooker thing.”

That’s when her eyes go narrow and Len can practically hear the ominous wheels in her brain turn. He wishes at that moment he could make himself invisible, because there’s no one else in this world who knows him better than Lisa, and she’s bound to come to some unpleasant – but true – conclusions.

“Oh my god,” she gasps and swings her feet off the armrest, shifting forward until she nearly topples from Cisco’s lap. Len tries to focus on the way Cisco immediately steadies her with an arm around her waist so that she doesn’t faceplant in the middle of the living room. It would be sweet if Len weren’t so bitter about his own life right now. “You like him! You actually like Ray. Oh, Lenny. Don’t you worry, I’m going to help you break into his place so that you can steal something valuable. That way, he’ll have to come back to you!”

“You two are seriously messed up, has anyone ever told you that?” Cisco sighs, letting his head fall back. “What if he just calls the police?”

“Yeah,” Lisa snorts, rolling her eyes and poking her boyfriend in the stomach with her golden nail, “like _you_ called the cops on me, right?”

Len recognizes that normal people would probably be surprised by the fact that Lisa started her relationship with theft, but Len’s just amused.

“What did she steal from you?” he asks, in no small part for inspiration.

Lisa huffs at that, crossing her arms over her chest. “It was just a comic book.”

“Just a- _just_ a comic book?! It was a vintage signed copy! First edition! _Just_ a book, dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!”

Len considers that the right moment to leave – not so much because Cisco’s close to hyperventilation, but because there’s a glint in Lisa’s eyes that says she’s both amused and starting to appreciate her boyfriend in ways Len really, _really_ does not want to witness. He grabs a gallon of ice-cream on his way to the bedroom and makes sure the door is properly closed, to eliminate the sounds of their bickering (and whatever might come later).

Len has a heist to plan, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://pheuthe.tumblr.com).


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